


Charity Begins at Home

by flaming_muse



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: April Showers Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-13
Updated: 2003-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:44:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike does some housecleaning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charity Begins at Home

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my LJ on August 13, 2003.

Xander was surprised to come home one Tuesday night to find all of his clothing scattered around the bedroom. In the midst of the chaos, was - what a surprise - his resident vampire.

"What's going on?" Xander asked from the doorway.

"Just doing some housecleaning," Spike replied. He dug further into the back of the closet and haphazardly tossed a cardboard box on the bed.

"Hey! Those are my comics! Be careful with them; some of them are worth good money." Xander rescued the box from its precarious perch on a messy pile of jeans and set it carefully to the side. He dodged an old pair of sneakers as they sailed through the air and slammed into the wall behind him. "Hey!"

"You might as well wait in the living room, pet. You won't be much help here."

"What exactly are you doing, Spike?"

"I told you. Housecleaning." He pulled out a pair of dress shoes, looked them over, and placed them on a small, neat pile beside the bed.

"Not that I don't appreciate you chipping in around here, but my drawers and closet weren't messy... at least not until you got into them."

"Well, yeah, but look what was in them." Spike held up one of Xander's favorite Hawaiian shirts between his thumb and forefinger. "These are colors rarely if ever seen in nature."

"That's why I like them."

"Well, I don't." He tossed the shirt across the room. "They hurt my eyes."

"So, you're throwing my clothes all over the place because you don't _like_ them?"

"No. I'm going through your wardrobe and deciding what to give away to charity. I'm sure that some homeless guy might not mind the eyestrain so much. It might be good for him, actually, since the blinding colors would keep away vamps."

"You're not giving my clothes away to charity, Spike," Xander said firmly. As he had pretty much expected, the vampire ignored him and kept pulling items out of the closet.

Taking a deep breath, Xander tried to keep a rein on his temper and then wondered why he was bothering. Spike was throwing away his clothes! And, hey, those were his painting jeans!

"If I were you, I wouldn't be criticizing other people's wardrobes," Xander said, beginning to gather up the clothes from the bed.

As expected, that got Spike's attention. He looked back over his shoulder and scowled.

"What's that supposed to mean? I look good. You think so. You've said."

"I'm just saying, Mr. I-only-have-four -shirts-and-three-pairs-of-jeans-and-they're-all-black, you're in a rut. And it's not even a rut from this decade. How old is your coat? Do you want a disco ball to go with that? I think I've got one somewhere."

Spike rose to his feet and took a step toward Xander.

"Oy. The duster is leather. That's classic style. Just because you're not old enough to appreciate it doesn't mean that--"

His tirade was cut off as Xander grabbed Spike and yanked him out of the bedroom. Xander pulled the door shut and stood with his back against it. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"And, anyway, why should I trust the opinion of someone who dresses in shirts that look like vomit?" Spike asked. He snaked a hand out toward the doorknob, but Xander blocked him. "Trust me. You'll be better off when I'm done, pet."

"I don't have any clothes that you like. I'll be *naked* when you're done."

Lust flashed in Spike's eyes.

"Now there's a thought."

"Nuh uh," Xander said, bracing his hands against Spike's shoulders to keep the vampire from getting any closer. "You're not getting out of this with sex."

"You'd like it. I'd make you scream." Spike pressed in closer, using his supernatural strength to full advantage.

"If you don't back off, I'm going to start yelling in a minute, and you're not going to like it one bit."

Spike moved away a bit and mimicked Xander's crossed-arm pose.

"Come on, Xan. I'm doing it for your own good."

"My own _good_? What? Like I'm a danger to myself if I wear those clothes?"

"You could look so much better. You're not in high school anymore, pet, and you dress okay at work. So why wear that stuff at home? I know you like looking like a school of tipsy tropical fish, but it's time for you to give it up."

Suddenly Xander felt tears well up behind his eyes, and he turned his head away to try to control them.

"So what you're saying is that I'm not good enough as I am," he said softly. He blinked his eyes rapidly and hated himself for letting Spike get under his skin. He knew that Spike wasn't actually trying to hurt him, but the subtext was blindingly obvious. Maybe even as blinding as his favorite shirt.

"I'm just trying to help you along, that's all," Spike said. "You know, give you the benefit of my experience. Bring you up a bit."

"Bring me up? God! I don't need your help," Xander snapped. "Stay out of my stuff."

The brief flash of anger was far better than his previous hurt because it carried him out of the room and away from Spike. He slammed the bedroom door behind him and twisted the lock. Not that it would keep Spike out if the vampire wanted in, but it would at least make Xander's feelings known.

He began to pick up the piles of clothing and throw them onto the floor of the closet.

 _Not good enough as I am, huh? Help me along? Who does he think he is?_

There was a soft knock on the door and then a rattle of the doorknob.

"Come on, pet. Open the door."

"Go away. I'm busy. I've got a mess to clean up in here."

The doorknob rattled again.

"You know that I can get in there anytime," Spike said through the door.

"Sure, why not? If the boundaries of personal property won't stop you, why would a flimsy lock?" Xander shoved the carton of comics on top of the heap of clothes and pulled the closet doors shut. He collapsed onto the bed, head in hands.

"Come on, Xan. Let me in."

"Do what you want. You will anyway."

There was a surprisingly quiet crunch as the lock was destroyed, and then the door opened. Spike stepped inside and came to stand by the edge of the bed.

"I didn't think that you'd get that upset about a bunch of ugly clothing," said Spike.

"You know, I don't even care about the clothes." Xander sighed and lifted his head to meet Spike's eyes. "It's the whole principle of the thing."

"That I'd go through your stuff without asking? I do that all the time. You know that."

"That you'd set out to change me to your liking without a second thought."

"Change you?" Spike dropped to his knees in front of Xander and grabbed the man's hands. "This isn't about changing you. It's about changing your _clothes_."

"And how would you feel if I got rid of your duster and bought you a baby blue windbreaker to wear instead?"

"Don't even think about it," Spike said with a snarl.

"See? You don't like it, either."

"Well, yeah, but the duster is stylish. The bright colors are... I don't even know a word bad enough to describe them."

Xander sighed again.

"Me. The bright colors are me. And you're throwing them out."

He watched Spike as the vampire stared at him. Spike's mobile face flashed through a variety of emotions until it settled on regret.

"I'm sorry, pet," he said, lifting one of Xander's hands to his lips. "I didn't think."

"I know. It doesn't matter. You're probably right, anyway. A lot of it's too small. We can throw out whatever you want."

"No. You keep what you like. Anything else can go to charity. Let someone else fight over who has to look like a traffic cone."

"If I get rid of things, I'm not going to start wearing leather or anything," Xander said firmly. He squeezed Spike's hands and smiled as the vampire joined him on the bed.

"Bet you'd look dead sexy in leather pants, love."

"Bet I'd look dead itchy."

Spike raised Xander's hand and kissed it again, this time doing more than brushing the skin with his lips. He ran his tongue over the tanned knuckles and began to nibble down the fingers.

"Now you're just trying to soften me up," said Xander with a grin. "Get me wound up enough and I'll agree to anything."

Spike smirked but shook his head.

"I'm trying to say I'm sorry," he said, pressing a kiss to Xander's palm.

A shiver ran up Xander's spine, both from the sensation and from the surprisingly tender words. He leaned into the touch and cupped Spike's cheek.

"It's okay. We can go through both of our wardrobes together, if you want. Then we'll go shopping and buy stuff that we both like. Maybe I'll get you a blue shirt."

"Yeah? Maybe I'll get you those leather pants."

Xander grinned and leaned forward to press his lips against Spike's. The kiss quickly deepened, their tongues and fingers entwining.

"I thought you wanted me naked," Xander said after he pulled back for air. He reached down to tug Spike's t-shirt out of his jeans.

"It _would_ be an improvement." Spike's fingers began to dance along Xander's arm and up to glide along his neck.

Leaving Spike on the bed, Xander stood and stripped off his clothes. The vampire's eyes glazed over at the sight of the muscled body in front of him.

"Oh, yeah. Much better," Spike said, pulling his own shirt off over his head and reaching out for Xander. "Best idea yet. How did I get this lucky?"

"What can I say?" Xander asked as he fell into Spike's arms. "Charity begins at home."

His grin was quickly smothered by Spike's questing lips, and there was no more talk of - or wearing of - clothing that evening.


End file.
